


Taste Of Metal

by nightrobin05



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 20:57:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightrobin05/pseuds/nightrobin05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>kink Meme prompt: Silva has Bond mimic a blowjob on a loaded gun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste Of Metal

The taste of oil was heavy on his tongue, the tange of metal resting heavily on his pallet. He wanted to scream, to yell and rage.  
And above all punch this smug bastard in the face.   
  
He gagged as the thick shaft pushed further in, his jaw aching dully in the background as he choked spittle dribbling down his chin. He grunted as it was pulled back his throat relaxing slightly before the uncomfortable feeling returned.   
  
“Oh James…” The soft purr echoed in his ears, the lust it held not even slightly hidden. Suddenly there was a warm hand on his thigh, gently squeezing as it slowly slid upwards, getting closer. Closer…  
  
James shifted pulling at his restraints once more, the coarse rope digging harshly into his wrists. The hand paused in its movements applying a light pressure to keep the leg in place, thankfully not returning to its previous destination even after Bond had stilled. Though it was resting far too close to his crotch for comfort…  
  
“Now, now dear. Do try to be still, I wouldn’t want you choking” Silva murmured as he pushed the gun further in to emphasise his point, James gagged once more twisting his head in an attempt to dislodge the offending object. Silva tisked in response, squeezing the thigh once more before the hand moved away completely.   
  
James couldn’t help the sigh of relief that broke out around the piece of metal still filling his mouth, jaw slacking as he let his eyes focus on the figure before him. Silva was sat before him, a slight amused smile pulling at the corners of his lips. Their eyes met for but a moment and James saw a flash of something then suddenly that hand –that bloody irritatingly warm hand- was resting on his half hardened cock, rubbing lightly through the material of his trousers.   
  
He involuntarily bucked his hips, unfortunately also ramming that blasted gun to the back of his throat again. He moaned the sound slightly muffled as his eyes squeezing shut, face twisting.  
  
Silva hummed in appreciation at the sight removing the hand for a moment to rub at the spittle still staining his chin, “beautiful…” He practically breathed the word out and James felt a shudder ripple down his spine, taking a deep breath through his nose. The hand gently rubbed at his chin, stroking the jaw line with the back of his fingers. The movement came to a stop and gently pushed his head backwards so that his line of sight was just above Silva’s hair holding it there, then suddenly the grip tightened holding it steady.  
  
Silva’s eyes narrowed as desire rushed through him, his blood pumping heavily and then his restraint loosened. The hand holding the gun was suddenly pumping it in and out, speeding and increasing the rhythm loving the weakened gasps and grunts that made their way out of James’ throat. His own arousal was pushing against the soft material of his trousers, the sight of James like this –bound to a chair his shirt and jacket pushed to rest below his shoulders and tangle in the restraints, an erection peeking through the thin material of his trousers as a gun was thrust in and out of his mouth- was enough to fuel his wet dreams for years. It was all too easy to imagine his own ‘gun’ replacing the metallic one he was currently handling, all too easy to imagine that warm wet heat enclosing his cock and sucking, taking him deeper as the soft rake of teeth-  
  
“Ugh…” he came suddenly his hand stilling as his come stained the front of his trousers, the limb slackening even as he held the gun loosely in place.  
  
James grunted in protest as the speed picked up, his throat clenching and unclenching he managed to somehow swallow a small amount of the drool pooling in his mouth. When the other finally stilled a small cry breaching the air he felt a mix of disgust and relief. It was over, Silva had come. His shoulders loosened slightly some of the tension that had been building slipping away, grateful that his fears of being violated further or the gun being replaced by another object slipped away –at least for now.  
  
Even if Silva wanted to go another round MI6 couldn’t be far away now, they would get here and pull him from this admittedly embarrassing mess. Hopefully his own half hard cock would have softened by that time, then at least he would still have some of his dignity. The grip on his chin had also loosened softer now than it had been, as he felt the lack of resistance he lowered his head to a more comfortable position his eyes finding Silva’s face. The man’s face relaxed, a mix of pleasure and peace hanging there. The silence hung around them for a moment before Silva’s own eyes slipped open a smug satisfied grin settling in to place as he met James gaze.  
  
The gun was pulled free, allowing Bond’s jaw to finally shut. It ached in protest as he parted his lips slightly to take in deep gulps of air. A thumb traced the lower lip, the slight clatter of metal barely registering as Silva spoke “thank you my dear, that was most…satisfying…” The smirk darkened a playful spark lighting his eyes, “but I feel now that I should return the favour.”  
  
And suddenly the other hand was down his pants, griping his cock and pumping in a firm rhythm. James couldn’t stop the surprised gasp his head falling forward and he squeezed his eyes shut, his forehead resting against the prim white blazer as his hips rocked to match the movements even as he attempted to regain control. This wasn’t supposed to happen, it was supposed to end with Silva’s pleasure not his own.  
  
Moans were now slipping free all too easily, he couldn’t stop them even as he clenched his mouth shut teeth gritting tightly together. His head shifted rubbing against the material as pleasure racked his frame, a grunt passing his lips. A few precise stokes later he was coming, his own juices staining his trousers as the hand relaxed the pace slowing so that the hand was still gently stroking his softening member.  
  
Pleasure flooded his system and he was left hanging limply against Silva, his bound hands numb as he leaned against the warm form before him. His jaw was aching feeling numb even as the tange of drool and metal clung to his tongue, reminding him faintly of blood. A deep chuckle reverberated through the chest but he was too dazed to care even when the hand left his pants -giving the area a fond pat as it did so- before it burrowed itself in his sweat slicked locks tugging lightly on them and turning the head so that James was facing him. A soft pair of lips met his own and James barely managed to open his eyes in surprise, watching as the other pulled away to grin at him.  
  
“So beautiful…”

**Author's Note:**

> First Bond/Silva fic. Took a few liberties with the prompt, really something to just tackle current writers block.


End file.
